The Taming of the Six
by yorozuyagaren
Summary: Or five, if we count The Twins as one. A series of five oneshots concerning the Lost Boys' entry into society, in no particular order. Slightly, Curly, and Nibs, in order of appearance. Based on the book.
1. Slightly

A new project I thought up, to cheer myself and everyone else up after those angsty drabbles me and Margot posted the other day. There will be five of these, one for each of the boys, with the twins sharing one, since they're so alike anyway.

* * *

The Taming of the Six: Slightly 

We never did find the drawing-room. Mr. Darling (or "Not A Cypher", as we called him) didn't seem to mind though. He assigned us each to a corner in various rooms (The Twins shared one), then told us to report to Mrs. Darling because we needed a bath.

"I'm sure you're all very nice boys," he said. "But no one will ever respect you if you're filthy and dressed in rags. Run along now, all—however many there are of you."

"We're five, counting The Twins as one," Nibs informed him.

"Why would you count twins as one person?"

"Because Peter doesn't understand twins," explained one of The Twins. "So we're not allowed."

He looked a little confused, but didn't ask for any more clarification, which was just as well. Mrs. Darling, however, brought up the subject of names.

"And what's your name, dear?" she asked me when it was my turn in the bath. I was first, after Curly.

"Slightly," I told her.

She didn't say anything, but she sort of almost frowned, and I could tell that she didn't think much of my name.

"Peter gave us all names, because we couldn't remember ours. Except for The Twins. They're just The Twins."

"Well, we shall have to remedy that," she said. "You'll all be going to school soon, and I'm afraid that it will be much more trouble than it's worth to be calling you by the names Peter gave you." She smiled, and I wanted to give her a hug. "What do you think of the name Simon? It's close to Slightly, so it wouldn't take as much getting used to."

I frowned, turning the name over in my mind as I sat in the tub. There wasn't anything unpleasant on it, and I supposed that I'd grow into it eventually.

Grow into it. The thought scared me a little, and I wondered what Peter would say if he knew that we were getting new names that we would have to grow into. I knew what Tink would say— "You silly ass." Only instead of referring to Peter or Tootles, the ones that she usually called silly asses, she'd be referring to me and Curly and Nibs and Tootles and The Twins, for leaving Neverland and going to school and growing up.

I guess I must have looked scared, because Mrs. Darling started stroking my hair the way Wendy had done sometimes to Peter, and asked what was wrong.

"I don't know if I'm ready," I said. "Peter always said that you can't un-grow up. If people start calling me Simon, I might start to grow faster so I'll grow into it."

Mrs Darling smiled, only it was a nice, understanding sort of smile, not a nasty, you're-being-silly sort of smile. "How old are you, Slightly?" she asked.

"I don't know. Older than The Twins definitely, because I remember when they came, and I think a little younger than Nibs."

"Well, you don't look like you're very much older than my son John, and he's not quite ten. I'd say that you have plenty of time to get ready to grow up."

Then it was my turn to smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Then my name is Simon," I said happily. Something occurred to me. "What's Curly and Nibs and Tootles and The Twins new names going to be?"


	2. Curly

The Taming of the Six: Curly

Wendy always hated cutting my hair, because it was so curly that it never seemed to come out right no matter what she did. The result was that she didn't cut it at all, and it continued to get longer and longer until Peter would lose patience with me blaming my hair for the trouble I always get into and hack most of it off with his dagger. Then it would grow back and everything would start over.

When we arrived at Wendy's house, it had been a while since Peter had cut my hair, and it was long enough that if I were to pull a curl down in front of my nose I would be able to chew on it when I was nervous.

I was chewing on a piece of hair when Not A Cypher told us to go take baths.

Michael had told me about baths. He'd said they were nasty and silly and you always got soap in your eye and it hurt.

I don't know if I'll ever believe Michael again though, because Wendy's mother was careful not to get soap in my eyes, and if it was strange being really clean afterwards, it was a nice kind of strange and not silly at all. Michael's very small though, so I guess he has a different perspective on things like baths.

But the strangest thing of all was after the bath when Wendy's mother cut my hair.

She did a good job. She combed it out when it was still wet so she could see how long each piece was, and then she took a scissor and cut so much off that when I saw it all on the floor I thought that I'd surely be bald by the time she was done. I wasn't though. Not quite.

"Guess my name can't be Curly anymore," I said, measuring a piece with my finger in the mirror. I was fascinated by the mirror. The only other one I'd ever seen was the tiny one in Tink's room, which was so small that if you looked into it, all you saw was your eye. This one was so big that when I stood on the little stool near the sink, I could see my whole head, and my shoulders too.

"Your name is Curly?" Wendy's mother asked.

I nodded. "But it can't be anymore, because I don't have any hair left."

"Would you like me to help you think of a new name?" she asked. "It's just as well. George is going to sign all of you up for school, and he'd be horrified if he had to sign papers for a boy with the name Curly."

"Or none at all," I added. "What kind of name would he not mind signing papers for?"

"A name that's close to Curly would be Charley," she said. "If it's close to what you're used to being called, it will make it easier to adjust."

"Charley," I said, trying it out. "When my hair grows more, can I be Curly again? Not at school. Just when I'm with the other boys and Wendy."

"Of course you can."

I hoped that my hair would grow fast. Charley was a nice name and all, but I liked Curly better, and I liked my hair best.


	3. Nibs

Thank you so much for your reviews. I must say, I like writing the boys, because it's a challenge to make them all interesting and different given how little Barrie said about them. I've spent a good deal of time scouring through my copy of Peter and Wendy, making sure I've got facts straight.

Matter of fact, I had finished this one earlier today, but I realized that it hadn't mentioned white rats at all. In the book, Nibs has a bit of an obsession with white rats, so I went back and re-wrote it, white rats included. The book that Nibs got his name from was, of course, written by Charles Dickens.

* * *

The Taming of the Six: Nibs

I'm not Nibs anymore. I never liked being Nibs. Now my name is Nicholas. I picked the name out myself from a book on the shelf in the nursery, while I was waiting for my turn in the bath. The book was called _Nicholas Nickelby_, and it was written by a man with a funny name. I was rather proud of myself for having a name picked out from a book.

"And what's your name?" asked Wendy's mother (or Mrs. Darling, as Slightly says we're to call her).

"Nicholas," I said proudly. Or as proudly as one can be when he's sitting in a bathtub for the first time, and isn't completely sure what's going on.

"That's strange," she said, pouring some water over my head to wash the soap out. "Slightly said that Peter gave you all names because you couldn't remember your own, and thus far all the names have been odd ones."

I wiped some water out of my eyes, frowning. "Well, I used to be called Nibs, because when I was smaller I ate slowly, and Peter joked that I nibbled. But now I eat faster, and I never liked the name Nibs anyway."

"Then your name will be Nicholas from now on," she said.

Encouraged by my success in one area, I decided to bring up another subject that had always been on my mind.

"Can I have a white rat?" I asked. "I used to want a cheque-book, for my real mother, but I doubt that I'll ever find her. I'd really like a rat though, to keep as a pet."

"Whatever would you want a pet rat for?" Mrs. Darling asked.

"I like rats. They're quite smart. I used to watch them sometimes, but then the pirates came with a cat, and the cat killed them all." I grinned. "I killed the cat, though. I made the skin into a hat, but The Twins were very small then and one of them peed in it by accident. So I punched him."

Mrs. Darling looked uncomfortable. I bit my lip, realizing that it probably wasn't a good idea to talk about killing and punching and peeing in hats to a lady, especially when the lady was going to be my new mother.

"I'm sorry if I'm upsetting you," I said. I tried to stand up and bow, like I'd seen Peter do, but I lost my balance and slipped. Mrs. Darling caught me just before I hit my head on the side of the tub.

"It's all right," she said. "Just be careful."

"Can I have a white rat if I'm careful?"

She laughed. "I'll have to talk to George, but I don't see any reason why not," she said.

"Who's George?"

"My husband."

"Oh, you mean Not A Cypher."

"Not A Cypher?"

"Yes, because he said he didn't want to be treated as a cypher in his own house, so I said that we should all call him 'Not A Cypher' so we wouldn't forget. What's a cypher?"

"A cypher is a person or thing that doesn't mean anything," she said, laughing again.

"I suppose Peter is a cypher now," I said solemnly. "I know he said that he'd come visit, but he always forgets. Once he forgot Tootles, and made him sleep outside for nearly a week. We all thought that he'd be killed by something for sure, but we didn't dare let him in because of Peter."

"Poor Tootles," she said, quite sincerely.

"He's the most unfortunate of us," I explained. "He never has any adventures, and he's always having accidents. We really shouldn't have worried when Peter forgot him. He's so unlucky that nothing happened to him at all, except that he was bruised from tripping over things." I hoped she wouldn't ask me any more. I was sick of talking about Tootles. He's annoying. To make sure she wouldn't ask any more about Tootles, I changed the subject.

"So, do you think we'll do well in school?" I asked.


End file.
